And don’t act like you haven’t bought box sets of Alf and Silk Stalkings now.

You want these lists.

This time though, we’re looking at the worst jobs you can have–at least pop culturally. I got the idea after watching one of those shows on of those TLCDiscoveryLogoLifetime channels. Rarely impressed with shows devoted to lists, I’ve decided to take on the job myself, and so, I present to you, Worst Pop Culture Jobs.

We’ll update these from time to time.

The Kids Don’t Get It Worst Pop Culture Jobs

Hugh Hefner’s Girlfriend(s)

At some point,everyone becomes aware of their mortality. For some people, it’s the passing of a close relative, a near-miss accident, or the passing of a classmate or childhood friend at a tender age. Personally, it happened when I heard Michael Jordan’s Hall of Fame speech which was laden with a slurred quality that I hadn’t heard since Mary Jo Buttafuoco’s press conference. There were words so heavily butchered during that speech that I quickly understood why the only thing he could sell was sneakers and R. Kelly songs.

Anyway, I can’t imagine a worse way to come to grips with your mortality than through your job as Hugh Hefner’s Sex Pillow.

A couple quick facts about Hugh Hefner to establish who we’re talking about:

Anyway, Hefner, whose face is beginning to resemble one of those Mexican Day of the Dead holiday skulls, has garnered an impressive string of girlfriends over the years. These women, usually occurring in pairs and threes (a hangover from Hef’s time helping Noah load the ark), are required to live and sleep with Hef in the sprawling Playboy Mansion 365/yr away from any family, friends or MySpace. It’s like an adult version of Beauty and the Beast only instead of the singing teacups we have dancing E-cups.

But back to the subject: could there be a worse job than sleeping with Joe Black? If you’re one of these broads, you’ve traded in nights out dancing, getting free drinks and limo rides for sleeping with an 82-lbs Skeletor look-alike in a red velvet skeet-skeet-stained bathrobe.

But fair enough. So……What’s the screening process for this like? What’s the ad for such a prestigious position? Well, glad you asked. Read below.

SWF 18-26 Needed for Companionship, Diapering

I’m a highly-successful, lonely gentleman who resembles Jack Skellington in his mid-300s looking for love. I consider myself worldly and horny. I’m looking for a busty, wayward tart who likes sleeping in a porn grotto, helping me pass my water and at night, being my penis sock. Must enjoy sleeping a lot and forgetting things. Willingness to entertain becoming lesbian a plus. Desperate inquiries only.

And there you have it. Someone out there answers these and is then treated to years of old man junk, posing on cakes, beach chairs and leopard-print divans.

And at night (3:45pm), the lights stay up go down and you retire to Hef’s bedroom to give septuagenarian h’jobs.

Imagine that now.

A lifetime (Hef’s riches has allowed him to purchase the same Holy Grail last seen in the Indiana Jones movie and Lil Jon’s videos) of flaccid love-making, mixed in with some lesbianism (which hey, might be cool for you anyway, so loosen up, chick), pink nighties and coke on your pancakes to keep you going.

It’s a life guaranteed to have you waking up at least 3x/week with wet bed sheets.

A life of repeating the same story (or sentences) at least 8x/day.

A life of making love with a naked picture of Anne Nicole Smith looking down at you from the bed.

Of chewing his food first and then giving it to him, like a momma bird.